


What Makes a Man

by duckgirlie



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Canon Queer Character, Canon Queer Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 22:00:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckgirlie/pseuds/duckgirlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's looked at love so many ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Makes a Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hl (hele)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hele/gifts).



_When Thomas was eight, Robert Woodlow grabbed his hand after school and pulled him behind a hedge on the way back home._

"What are you doing?" Thomas hissed when Robert pulled him to the ground

"Shh!" Robert pressed a finger over Thomas' lips as he started digging around in his satchel. "You're too loud."

A few seconds later he smiled triumphantly and pulled a small jar out of his bag. Thomas' eyes widened before he pulled back from Robert's hand.

"You're going to be in so much trouble!"

"I won't!" Robert insisted. "She has so many jars at home, she'll never miss one. I never get any if I wait until she remembers me."

Stretching out their legs against the grass, they dug their fingers into the jar until it was empty, licking the sticky blackberry jam from their fingers and hands as the sun started to sink across the fields.

As the dark pulled in around them, Robert pulled him to his feet and kept hold of his hand as they ran as fast as they could back towards home.

When they skidded to a stop outside Thomas' house he had to fall to his knees to catch his breath.

"I hope I'm not too late."

Robert smiled gently and reached up to wipe a smudge of jam from Thomas' chin.

"Good luck."

– – – – –

 _When Thomas was thirteen he grabbed Robert's hand on the last day of school and pulled him into the woods._

They ran as fast as they could until their legs dropped out from under them and the tumbled to the ground in a messy heap.

Thomas rolled onto his back and stared up at the sky. "What are you doing now?"

"I'm going to work in a shop." Robert rolled over next to him, their shoulders touching as their chests still heaved with exertion. "And you?"

"I'm going to be a butler."

"What, immediately?" Robert grinned.

"Don't be stupid." Thomas dug his elbow into Robert's ribs.

"Oof!" Robert wriggled away from Thomas' elbows and sat up, twisting his head around to see him again. "Does this mean next time I see you, you'll be too fancy to eat jam with your fingers?"

"That's right." Thomas sat up and threw himself at Robert, wrestling him to the ground. "It'll only be spoons for me."

Robert struggled for a few minutes before giving in and collapsing back onto the grass. "I'll remember that."

Thomas let his arms go and flopped down next to him. "You had better."

– – – – –

 _When Thomas was fifteen, he was a hallboy in Oxfordshire._

It took him three whole months to get used to having a bed to himself, but as winter set in and the nights start to stretch longer and colder across the room he finds himself wishing he was back at home. He wrapped his arms tighter around himself and pressed his face into his pillow to try and stop his teeth chattering.

On the other side of the room, the covers shifted.

"Are you alright?" John asked.

"I'm fine." His voiced was muffled by the pillow.

The other bed creaked as the covers rustled even more, and Thomas heard John moving across the floorboards.

"No you're not, you're frozen."

"I'm fine." Thomas insisted. "Go back to bed."

"If you're too cold, you won't sleep. And if you don't sleep, you won't be able to do your job. And then I'll have to do it, so budge up."

John poked Thomas roughly in the back until Thomas shifted more to one side of his bed and then he climbed in behind him.

"What are you doing?"

"Shut up."

John wrapped his arms around Thomas' shoulders and slid his warmer hands over Thomas cold ones.

"What are–"

"Go to sleep, Thomas."

– – – – –

He and John rushed through the riding boots as fast as they could, hoping to escape into town before they were handed anything else to do. Right before they disappeared out the door, Thomas felt himself pulled back into the kitchen.

"Relax lad, I'll leave you be in a minute."

Thomas pulled himself free and straightened his sleeves. "What is it?"

Morrison looked him up and down, one eyebrow raised. He nodded slightly out the window.

"You'll want to be careful with that one."

"What do you mean?"

Morrison raised his eyebrow again. "If you want to leave it like that then."

Thomas could feel the colour rising in his cheeks and looked down at the floor until it faded. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"You know that Robert may be leaving us next year?"

Thomas' eyes snapped up to meet Morrison's. "Are you saying..."

"I might be." Morrison nodded out the window again. "Of course, Richard's blond, and so is John, but..."

He trailed off and left the room, leaving Thomas alone. He stood frozen to the spot for a few moments before shaking himself free and running out the door.

John was waiting for him in the village, leaning against a fence as Thomas raced down to meet him.

He bumped Thomas gently with his shoulder. "What happened to you?"

Thomas blushed again and leaned into the touch for a second. "Nothing, just... It was nothing."

John smiled warmly and nodded towards the main street. "C'mon then."

– – – – –

 _When Thomas was nineteen, he had stars in his eyes so bright that no one could miss them._

"And where're you off to then?" O'Brien asked him, tapping the ash off the end of her cigarette.

Thomas leaned in very closer before he whispered "it's a secret" and grinned as he retreated.

"I see how it is. I suppose you'll be swanning in at all hours, expecting me to care about whatever ridiculousness you've gotten yourself into."

"You know me so well, Miss O'Brien, it must be said."

"Be gone then." She waved him off irritably. "Go enjoy yourself while you're still young enough to run away from trouble."

When Thomas came home hours later, it was with a split lip and eyes the stars had fallen from.

"You're lucky Her Ladyship took so long to get down tonight, or you'd be on your own."

"I'm fine." Thomas insisted.

"You are not." She dabbed at his lip with a damp cloth. "Do you want to tell me what's happened? Or am I to wait until you've a few less ales in you?"

"Have you ever been in love?" Thomas asked.

"Is that an answer to my question?" O'Brien asked back.

"It's as good as."

"Of a sort then, yes I have. Though not the sort that leaves blood on my face, I can tell you that much."

Thomas gestured at his face. "This wasn't..."

"People can do you in with more then their fists, you know."

"They didn't." Thomas said, a hint of finality to his voice.

"Oh aye. And where are they now then?"

Thomas looked out the window as the shadows fade across the yard. "They had to go."

– – – – –

 _When Thomas was twenty-three, he met a Duke in London, and he felt like his legs dropped out from under him all over again._

The Countess gestured at him for the Duke. "Thomas can look after you."

"Thank you very much." The Duke smiled. "I hope I shant be a bother."

This second to Thomas, who forced his face not to react as he answered. "Not at all, your grace."

That night, Thomas once again schooled his face into the picture of professional decorum as he slid the Duke's jacket from his shoulders. As soon as the jacket was hung and Thomas returned to remove his shirt, the Duke turned to face him.

Thomas didn't step back. A perfect, nearly feral smile slid over the Duke's face as his hand slid to rest near Thomas' collarbone.

"I thought I detected something."

"So it would seem, your grace."

"Excellent."

He popped Thomas' collar button open with his thumb, sliding his hand into his undershirt and resting his thumb between his collarbones and pressing oh-so-softly. Thomas' breath caught in his chest as the Duke pulled him down for a fierce kiss. As Thomas' hands moved to rest on his shoulders, the Duke pushed the rest of his shirt off and lead him to the bed.

Afterwards, the Duke sat up next to him and tilted his chin, sliding his thumb across his lower lip.

"You really are..." He trailed off and pulled his hand back. "When do you have to go back out."

Thomas glanced across at the clock. "About now, I should say."

He stood up and quickly reassembled his clothes, glancing back at the Duke as he fixed his buttons.

The Duke stood up and crossed the room, catching Thomas' hand in his and pressing a kiss to his fingers.

"Thank you."

Thomas waited a few seconds before reluctantly retrieving his hand. "Sleep well, your grace."

– – – – –

It was raining when the Duke departed, and Thomas held the umbrella over his head as he walked slowly to the car.

"Are you in town long?" He enquired, below his breath.

"For much of the season, I should imagine." Thomas replied.

"Perhaps then we shall meet again."

"That would be most enjoyable, your grace."

"Indeed."

The Duke smiled that last-night smile again, but all to briefly before the door shut between them.

Thomas watched as the Duke's carriage pulled away, and blinked his eyes as the stars returned.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it! Yuletide completely kicked my ass this year, and this was about my fourteenth attempt to make something work.


End file.
